


beginnings

by the_prose_in_which_the_filth_dwells (the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells)



Series: it's not that easy [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, FCW (Florida Championship Wrestling), M/M, Sexism (Except It's Dynamics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24000733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_in_which_the_filth_dwells/pseuds/the_prose_in_which_the_filth_dwells
Summary: A series of short prologues establishing some events that take place before the events of"it's not that easy"
Relationships: Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Roman Reigns/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black
Series: it's not that easy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730818
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as the beginning of the sequel at first, but it didn't quite fit. So I've given it its own place. This is the only one I've written for now, but if I write more it will be added as another chapter of this work.

Seth Rollins has built a career out of proving people wrong. 

He had already been learning to wrestle for years when he presented as an omega. The revelation shook his foundations to the core ( _you’ll never be a champion now, just the side piece)_ but he persevered regardless. His designation was just one more obstacle he had to leap over. One more fight to win. 

When his family tried to guide him towards a more “omega-typical” hobby, Seth dug in his heels and met their efforts with gritted teeth and a firm refusal. Very soon this turned into an ultimatum: Seth gave them the choice to either accept his decision or abandon him entirely. It was a risky gambit, considering how he was a sixteen year old, newly presented high school student stuck in Davenport, Iowa, but worth it when his parents caved and no longer put up a fuss about the wrestling. Their logic seemed to be that he would grow out of it eventually, once he came to terms with his designation. 

He never did either. Wrestling was his passion, and Seth viewed his secondary gender as a hindrance rather than a perfectly healthy aspect of himself. He never left the house without taking his daily dose of suppressants. 

There was a marked difference in the way people treated Seth once he had presented. The neutral scent of childhood was a safety net he hadn’t realized he had until it was gone. Even on suppressants, everyone paid more attention to him whenever he did anything. Seth became painfully aware of just how important scents were during day to day life: his turned heads, and others’ became something he hyper-focused on without noticing. 

By far, though, what his designation changed the most was wrestling. Seth could get behind the knowledge that he was never going to have alpha levels of testosterone and the muscle mass to go with it. That just meant he could keep a level head and stick with the high flying fighting style he preferred. Thanks to his suppressants, being in close quarters with alphas wasn’t a problem either. 

No, what _bothered_ him was how people started to pull their punches. Even the teachers in his wrestling school did it, perhaps unconsciously, until he quite loudly demanded that they _knock it the hell off._

When the next blow from his opponent knocked the wind out of him, Seth smiled. 

And he wasn’t done, not with building a career or proving people wrong. He was constantly pushing for his matches to go longer, harder, faster. When he was booked in omega v. omega matches that were just eye candy, he convinced his “opponent” to do an actual, proper spot or two with him. Even if the audience was cheering for him because of his skimpy trunks rather than the moonsaults he did, his blood _sang._ This was where he wanted to be: in the ring, flying high.

When the WWE offered him a job, Seth kept his cool until he hung up the phone and then screamed so loud his neighbor in the next apartment over came to check if he was being murdered. Within a week he was in Florida, eyes sparkling with a lifetime of anticipation for this very moment. 

FCW was like being thrown into the deep end of a pool, but Seth knew how to swim and got even better at it out of spite. He didn’t stay stuck solely in the omegas’ division for very long, like many did, and was soon challenging anyone he could get his hands on. He lost sometimes, but he _always_ learned. That determination to be the best was what propelled him forward. 

x

Up to the moment Seth locked eyes with Roman Reigns, a fellow FCW newcomer, no alpha had ever made Seth go weak in the knees before. It was a split second moment backstage, one that Roman probably didn’t even notice, but it threw Seth for a savage loop. After taking an evening or two to masturbate furiously, Seth resolved to never let such a thing happen again and purposefully put himself in Roman’s way all the time to get over his weakness. 

Seth reckoned Roman thought he was flirting, until their first match when Seth attacked him with viciousness to the point of going feral. Roman got the message after that. They went about their separate businesses on the roster, and it was like nothing had ever happened. 

Seth kept going faster and pushing harder until he had convinced management to give him a title shot. He was always working out or training, long after his coworkers called it a night or took a break for the weekend. The management _had_ to see that, regardless of his designation. 

Two weeks later, Seth was FCW’s first omega champion. 

Fans called it a gimmick, but what pissed Seth off was the fact that his coworkers agreed. It was that, or he had spread his legs to get where he was. Never mind that he was more talented than the rest of them, that he had more drive and ambition. Seth proved them wrong by holding onto that title tooth and nail. 

Dean Ambrose debuted in FCW by challenging him to a twenty minute ironman match. He was a wildcard from the beginning, a jagged thing fresh from bloody deathmatches and spots with broken glass and barbed wire. The audience figured that if Seth’s title reign was a gimmick, then Dean was clearly the alpha he was going to job to. Seth was nothing more than a placeholder. Dean certainly walked with a swagger that suggested he might agree with the fans, but Seth never actually got a chance to speak with him before their match to gauge what exactly his thoughts were. 

But then, it didn’t matter. When they first clashed in the ring —arms locked, teeth bared, blood roaring— it was _electric_. They fought at a pace that had the crowd screaming with excitement. It was their first match, but it felt like the latest dance in a decade-long feud— the kind where everything lines up perfectly, where counters are countered and it’s anyone’s game. 

To no one’s surprise, the match ended in a draw. So did the next one. The next one, thirty minutes long and for the title, was going to do the same until sudden death was called. Seth’s vision narrowed until his entire world was Dean Ambrose, and he knew that the only reason he was on this earth was to win this match. 

And of course, he did just that. 

The relief of being given his title back was like a weight off of his back. It was his victory that kept him champion, not a rule-based default. He had finally proved he was better than any alpha FCW could throw at him, even one who dominated indie deathmatches. 

Seth stayed to gloat in the ring for a bit too long. A usual thing for him, but that time it changed _everything._

While Seth was posturing at the cameras, Dean had picked himself up off of the ring. He didn’t notice until the cameras started tracking movement behind him, but once he did he immediately spun around, hackles raised. He wouldn’t put it past Dean to attack him now. 

Instead, Dean offered him a hand to shake. His stare pierced him right to the core. His blue eyes were sharp, but not angry— more like he was daring Seth to take the risk and return the gesture. The crowd was roaring again, but Seth didn’t notice. 

He took Dean’s hand. It was larger than his, and his grip was firm but not aggressive. Seth unflinchingly met his eyes. Though it was the opposite of what any omega was _supposed_ to do, it was second nature to him now. Seth gave his hand a brisk shake without breaking eye contact. 

Then Dean _smiled._ A crooked twitch of his lips, something that conveyed respect at a match well fought as well as a shockingly friendly _I’ll get you next time._ Seth wasn’t expecting how it hit him straight in the loins. A respectful alpha who also happened to be his equal in the ring; beforehand Seth never would have listed that as one of his mate fantasies, but as he left the ring with his title slung over his shoulder, he knew he was hopelessly, _hopelessly_ attracted to Dean Ambrose. 

x

More likely than not, Seth’s hypothetical alpha would push him to stop wrestling, so he did his best to ignore any possible relationships in favor of his career. Dean was going to be another one of those could have beens, until he learned that they were being called up to the main roster to team up. 

Not only that— so was Roman Reigns. They were going to be a stable, which meant debuting together, working together, traveling together... Dean alone would have been bad enough, but Roman too? Seth was _fucked._

 _Absolutely_ fucked, come to find out, because the three of them clicked instantaneously. Debuting together, while initially intimidating, was the perfect storm of havoc the main roster needed. Wrestling together came as naturally as breathing. Traveling was a bit of a mess at first as Dean and Roman awkwardly tried to be delicate around his omega designation, but once he knocked it into their thick skulls that he was going to be their equal, _not_ an accessory, everything fell into place. 

But falling in love? Well, that was a whole different matter altogether. 


End file.
